Blanche Mistress
by Melody of the Inferior
Summary: Blanche is the head of her household now. Armed with her own servants and a divine butler, she sets out to right the wrongs of her family. Of course, it wouldn't be as difficult if Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen's Guard Dog, wasn't hellbent on interfering. While both of them try to fulfill their duties, a little kindness and understanding might bring them together.
1. Noblemen Shall Dance

**Well, this story popped into my head as soon as started watching Black Butler. Due to the extremely short amount of time it took me to write, I think I'll be able to write this fast enough. And before anyone comments on any "misspelled words," I'd like to warn you that I use U.K English instead of U.S English. I wanted to make the story a bit more accurate using that, but now I love it. Why? BECAUSE WORDS LIKE "YOLO" AND "SWAG" DON'T EXIST THERE, OKAY?! *tears of joy***

**Whelp, be sure to leave you opinions in the_ lovely little review section_. Think this is an interesting story so far? Why don't you tell me so that I can thank you. Your reviews make me happy and motivate to write more. **

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><p><em>Noblemen Shall Dance<em>

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><p>Music, irrelevant chatter, and slow dances made for a most wasteful night.<p>

"I wish to leave, Edward."

Edward, the man standing behind her seat, smiled. "I'm afraid you've told me earlier to not listen to you in this state."

The song of the orchestra filled the illuminated ballroom, barely louder than the tittering laughter of unknown wealthy. It had been at the dark of night and quiet, but nowadays in London, sleeping at this time is out of fashion. Dances with strangers, of course, were widely preferred.

Though she was there to pick on the behaviours and trends of the nobles, she found herself away from the crowd, alienating herself as usual. By herself, save for her butler, she was sure to grow tired of the environment.

At the estate of Viscount, much of the nearby aristocracy were present. In their own right, they all had stood out with colorful dresses and tailored suits. By that standard though, according to "Mistress" Blanche Eldeneuve, none of them were anything but bland.

She sat on an elegant chair on the standbys, just metres away from the dance-floors. "I was being foolish," she said, with her white-gloved hand pressed against her temple. "This gathering bores me."

By her side was a beautiful golden-haired man wrapped in butler's clothing. His eyes shone an almost glossy white colour, and his light features were in stark contrast to his black tail coat. For most of the night, he could be observed talking quietly to Duchess Eldeneuve.

"Did you not come here to observe the Viscount?" He asked. "Leaving now will waste the lovely dress I had chosen especially for this night."

"You do enjoy to tear them to shreds after I finish with them, though."

"Do I?"

"Yes. Now, I beg you take me back to my mansion."

He shook his head with amusement. "Are you sure, mistress? The Viscount of Druitt is over there."

He pointed across the dance floor, and through the crowds of people stood a blonde nobleman chatting to a pretty young lady. Blanche clicked her tongue in disgust.

"He dares to whisper sweet nothings to someone in plain sight. Men like that are..."

"Vile?" Edward offered. "Are you perhaps so used to my gentlemanly gait that you've forgotten that men like that exist in the numbers?"

She rolled her eyes. "There is no one more despicable than that of yourself, but the circumstances for your behaviors are in an obvious difference."

"How cruel of you say so, young mistress," he told her, chuckling.

She ignored him. "Who might that girl be? I've never come across her before," Blanche mumbled.

The girl was around the same age as Blanche in appearance, wearing a dress of pink and blue hues. Her hair was over one of her eyes, particularly the left one, with a flower piece covering it.

"And why is her eye..." Blanche snapped her fingers in her realisation. "That blue eye is just the shade of the late Lady Phantomhive!"

Edward nodded and poured her another cup of earl grey. "I was waiting for you to come to the conclusion."

"Why haven't you told me before it then?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him. Despite that, she accepted the tea and drank intently.

"That doesn't matter now. What does is that the very own Lord Phantomhive would come to a social gathering as a lady. Now, isn't that something you should focus on, dear mistress?"

"Don't act like you've gotten away with this," she told him, shaking her head. "I knew that the Viscount was a horrid man, but for the Guard Dog to pay him a visit -never mind him being dressed as such - is certainly a surprise."

"Do you think that perhaps that they believe that he is Jack the Ripper?"

"I'm not daft. Of course I know. I suggest you'll stop your treating me as such before I make the chef cook you dinner out of a horse's hind quarters."

"Ladies shouldn't use such foul language," he said to her with a hand placed on top of his lips.

Again, she ignored him. "The man is no saint, but he's no psychotic criminal, certainly not."

Instead of replying, Edward reached into the pocket inside of his tail coat and pulled out a black envelope. He took out the single piece of paper stored inside it handed it to her. Blanche yanked it out of his fingers.

"What time is it now, Edward?" She asked him in a calm voice as her eyes skimmed over the paper.

"Just about time for night's main event, young mistress."

* * *

><p>Inside a sizable room were a few rows of chairs and a blacked-out stage area. Blanche sat in the back with Edward standing in tow. They had both worn masquerade masks to match in with others in the crowd.<p>

This was an auction, something painfully familiar to Blanche. She had been to one before, but never by anything but curiosity. Being in such a dirtied environment sent a wave of discontent to surround her.

Sensing her discomfort, Edward bent down to her ear level and said, "This sort of thing is easy enough for just me to handle alone, m'lady. You may leave if you dislike this kind of place."

She shook her head quickly in response.

He sighed and stood up straight. He was a butler, and as such, he had no jurisdiction to tell his master what to do. This job, no matter how inconvenient it was to his status, was quite interesting.

Suddenly, the stage's lights were turned on and people in the small audience cheered. On the stage was a cage of fine black-painted steel, much like a bird-cage, except it had no bottom. Next to it stood the gaudy Viscount of Druitt, who had the nerves to wear a mask even if it was in his mansion that the auction was held.

Inside the cage was none other than Lord Ciel Phantomhive himself, _or herself_, Blanche thought. His eyes were covered in a band of cloth, and she wasn't sure if he had been awake.

"What you see here is a rare little robin with eyes the color of a deep forest and the calm ocean!" The Viscount announced. Murmurs echoed throughout the audience.

A masked lady in revealing clothing went to pull his eye cover off. He gave no resistance, but his eyes were closed.

"Bidding starts at 1000, 2000, 3000, 4000, 5000!"

Blanche wondered what his eyes looked like. From when she knew Phantomhive as a child, his eyes completely a deep, pretty blue, just like his mother's. She glanced over at Edward, who seemed to be the only uninterested thing around. He was never fond of events such as these, where he could only watch dirty people do dirty things.

"Edward," she said. He directed his scattered attention towards her. "Is it possible that eyes change colour by themselves?"

"Not for regular humans, I believe," he answered.

"Thank you."

She turned to the stage again only to witness Phantomhive open his eyes. It was true: one of his eyes was that pretty blue and the other a deep forest mauve. _How_ _enchanting_, she thought, smiling.

Suddenly, he said, "Sebastian, here I am."

The candles blew out simultaneously and the entire room was black. The crowd went wild in gasps and surprised shrieks. The Viscount yelled something that could barely be heard over the clamour.

"I prefer it to be light, don't you think?" Blanche said, even though it was drowned in the distress.

"Right away, mistress."

She could no longer feel his weighted presence beside her. Before the candles were lit, she could hear screams of the people in the crowd, as long loud crashing noises. She sat still in place like a lady should and waited for the lights to fill the room.

When it did, she found Edward by her side and another man on the stage. He had black hair and a strange air around him, one that differed greatly from Edward.

"It seems like you aren't good for much but getting yourself captured," the man said. He walked to the cage and pulled it open.

He flicked his wrist and the ropes on the Phantomhive were cut. Both of them chatted about something that Blanche blocked out of her ears. Talk was boring; she preferred not to listen when possible.

"Edward, this place is filthy," she said, looking up at him. He smiled in response.

"Shall we pay our respects to the Phantomhives before we leave?" She gave a wave of her hand in response.

Like he had just noticed her, Lord Phantomhive froze up. The man beside him, likely to be Sebastian, put a hand to his temple and sighed.

"It seems Lady Elizabeth wasn't the one who you should have been worried about, young master," Sebastian said to him.

"Take me home now, Edward. This was a waste of my time."

As she said those words, she stood up and walked towards the window. Edward followed loyally. He touched the window and it immediately cracked apart. Without a warning, Blanche hopped out.

Edward turned and bowed to the Phantomhives. "It was a pleasure," he said and jumped out of the window himself.

"Sebastian," Ciel said, still stiff, "she saw me..."

"I apologise, young master, I couldn't take care of her like everyone else."

"And why not?!"

"Her butler stopped me before I could get near her, I'm afraid."

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><p>"Welcome home, mistress." A little boy who looked under the age of ten with grey hair and eyes ran up and greeted Blanche. "I've finished with dinner."<p>

"Thank you, Levy," she said as Edward took off her cloak and hung it on the rack.

The three of them walked to the dining area wordlessly, passing by the elegant, aged decor of the manor. The floors were of white spun wool and the walls were of stained ivory marble. There were statues and paintings every few metres. They popped against the whitened base of the manor with bright colours.

There was a savoury smell floating throughout the estate. The only sound that could be heard was the soft, mellow drum of the piano, whispering faintly throughout every corner of the manor. Blanche wondered if everyone else in the manor was fast asleep.

"Edward." She sat down on the finely crafted wooden chairs at the head of the table.

"Yes, mistress?" Edward had poured her another glass of tea and was well on his way to the kitchen to help Levy when she called him.

She hesitated and averted her eyes from him. "...how should nobility act?"

"Just as you have," he answered smoothly.

"I don't enjoy their pastime activities. Many of them are scum. I don't want to associate myself with them," she said, sipping from her tea glass. "Especially not what Lord Phantomhive did… What was it called again?"

"Cross-dressing," he answered, laughing. "I think you've embarrassed the young Lord enough by figuring out his identity."

"Why should it matter? I don't want to do all the dancing and mindless chatter these brainless gold-flaunting birds do."

"I thought you wanted to become a proper noblewoman. It is only natural for you to act as such."

"I am the face of the highly respected Eldeneuve household now and past traditions created by my father, grandfather, and whoever should do well to disappear. I want a new meaning given to Eldeneuve hospitality and nobility, Edward. Tomorrow, our visiting guests will sure to be entertained."

"Gladly, Duchess Eldeneuve."


	2. Hospitality of the Elegant and Wealthy

You know what's funny? How often in this anime and manga that I catch these nobles drinking some kind of fancy tea and someone unknown snack from a fancier land. They literally never drink water and eat real food. But obviously, they're healthy and good-looking, because that's logical.

_Hospitality of the Elegant and Wealthy_

All was quiet in the Phantomhive Manor.

"Young master, I'm sure it's not as serious as it seems."

Lord Phantomhive had been seething since the night before, when many things had gone terribly wrong. Interestingly enough, Jack the Ripper turned out not to be the Viscount of Druitt, which meant their whole investigation was a drain.

Jack the Ripper was a murderer whose sights lay only on prostitutes. Strangely, after grotesquely slaughtering them, he was keen on neatly cutting out their womb and leaving them for dead. Viscount Druitt, whose medical background and overall suspicious manner had pinned him to the top of the list of suspects, turned out to not be Jack after all. It had been confirmed when another murder had taken place after he had been taken care of.

But that wasn't the focal point of Lord Phantomhive's discomfort.

Last night, while he just finished the investigation, someone saw him in his most . . . vulnerable state. Ciel wished that idiotic Viscount had stripped him to his undergarments or something before the auction as that would've been less of a blow to his pride. A noble lady had seen him dressed as a noble lady! At that moment, he wished that Sebastian would suck out whatever was remaining of his shamed soul.

"By the end of this week, all of Great Britain will know about this!" Ciel said, his voice muffled as his head was lain on his desk. "The Phantomhive's head dressed as a girl! As a girl is a frilled floral dress, flirting with the Viscount of Druitt!" He groaned. "I've done it now, Sebastian, I've truly tarnished my family's name."

Sebastian, who was busy at work organizing the book in Ciel's study, could only shake his head at his master. "I don't think that person would go around telling others. She was at an illegal auction herself, bocchan."

"Who was she, anyway?" Ciel said into the sleeve of his jacket.

Sebastian placed a few books he carried back onto the shelf. Ciel would always leave them somewhere after he would finish reading. "Judging by her alabaster hair and clothing and her cerise eyes, I presume she's the infamous Ghost Duchess of the Mad Household."

Ciel made a point of groaning even louder this time. "You didn't need to use such jargon words to describe her appearance. And what's with that long title?"

"They're a very respected classical instrument craft and trade company, Virtuosique. I'm sure you've heard of them."

"This doesn't make it any better for me, Sebastian."

Sebastian smiled at Ciel's chagrin. "Would you care to listen to a lowly servant's suggestion, young master?"

"Just spit it out."

"Why don't we visit the Eldeneuve estate this evening to negotiate a few terms with the head?"

Ciel raised his head up half-way, revealing the eye that hadn't been covered by an eye-patch. "Make the preparations." Ciel lifted up his entire head and reverted back to his usual proud manor. "Now, Sebastian."

•••••

Blanche was laying atop a hammock that replaced the area where most people would put a lounge chair. On her stomach was a fluffy grey rabbit, sleeping soundly. She herself was about to doze off, but it would be unsightly to have just woken up in the face of a visitor.

She had been expecting a visit from someone in particular since yesterday's mishap. It would be her first formal guest ever since she became holder of the Eldeneuve name. How excited was she! It was always so hectic having to worry about her workers at the manor. Now that someone else would be here, she could stress much less on how much they misbehave.

Soundlessly, Edward appeared next to her hammock. He bent over so that his face was a good metre or so in front of her. "Levy has finished with the evening's meal, mistress, as I am sure you are aware of. I am currently awaiting a report from Ren and Ran about the clean-up and Leo about the gardening."

Blanche grabbed her hare and sat up. "The only report you'll be lucky enough to get is a report from Scotland Yard with a fine."

He chuckled and offered her a hand up, but she stood up by herself. "I believe you're right. I will go check on them right now to make sure to punish any survivors of the catastrophe."

As he walked off, she said, "keep them alive, Edward! We need them to finish preparing for our guest's arrival!"

Only about an hour later, the ring of the doorbell echoed quietly throughout the manor. It had been a grueling time of work for Edward. The other servants of the household always had their own creative ideas on what should be done in the manor, and more often than not, their ideas were blast. Blanche, who had been dressing up her rabbit for the occasion, finished up wrapping up the red bow tie around its neck.

Not a moment later, she heard the click of the oak doors. "The mistress will be with you momentarily."

Blanche took a deep breath and picked up her rabbit. He obediently laid in her arms as she walked to the entry area of her mansion. Her short heels clicked just slightly against the marble stairway. Edward was by her side as soon as she was in sight.

"Welcome, Lord Phantomhive," she said with a smile. "I've been expecting you."

His expression remained the same, though she could tell he was thinking up many ideas in his head at that moment. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, one tailored especially for him, she predicted. It was a younger, more elaborate and interesting version of those boring clothes the older noblemen wore.

At his immediate side was Sebastian with an ever-present polite smile written across his face. He and Edward wore the exact same expression, though she couldn't say which one of them looked more suspicious than the other. Sebastian's clothing changed from casual gentlemen to elegant butler since the night before. She could feel his and Edward's silence exchanges. It must have been part of the butler conduct or something of the sort.

"I apologize for not sending a notice beforehand," the Phantomhive said, "but we would've made it here before the letter did."

Blanche nodded. "Edward, show them to the guest area with him." She handed him the the bunny-rabbit.

"Yes, milady."

She had almost expected him to question her on where exactly the guest area had been, since there hadn't been one in this mansion since a hundred years ago. Of course, if he did, then it would embarrass the Eldeneuve establishment. A butler who embarrasses his own household is certainly no butler at all. Blanche enjoyed seeing how resourceful her butler could get in the moments that she had put him on the spot.

The three men walked off. As Sebastian and Edward talked politely in the place of their masters, Blanche walked off to check on her other workers. Before she left, she caught the Phantomhive turn around ever-so-slightly and glance at her. When she waved at him, he whipped his head to face the front and quickly stomped off.

She just blinked for a moment. She deduced that maybe Ciel didn't want her to catch him looking at her. Without much thought on it, she strolled over to the cleaning-supplies room.

"Wax?"

"Wax!"

"Cloth?"

"Cloth!"

"Mistress?"

"Mistress?!"

As they both said that, the realisation came to them. Quickly, they put down all the cleaning utensils they had grabbed already and ran over happily to Blanche.

"Mistress, you've come to visit us." A teenage boy with light chestnut hair and eyes said.

"Yay! It was boring here without you!" Another boy, identical to the first, with dark chocolate brown hair said. He and the other were both dressed in the combined version of a waiter's and maid's work outfit.

"Did you finish the cleaning I've requested?" She asked, disregarding their cheerfulness.

"Yes, we did. Bighead Ed didn't like it so we had to do it all over again before," the first boy said.

"Ran," Blanche said, with a finger placed on top of her lips, "Edward might hear you."

"You care about our well-being so much, mistress!" The other said, grabbing a hold on Blanche's arm. Ran was quick to join on his other side.

On the other side of the mansion in the game room, Edward's eye twitched in the middle of pouring tea for Lord Phantomhive. He sighed and excused himself for a moment, taking with him two knives. He walked out the door and stood in the hallway, narrowing his eyes at the other side the mansion. With deadly precision, he threw the knives all the way across the manor.

"Ren, it ripped your uniform shirt." The faint voice of Ran could be heard by Edward.

"Blast! It did, it did! That no-good butler's really trying to kill us, mistress!" The much louder voice of Ren could be heard by everyone else in the manor.

Edward casually walked back inside the room and resumed placing down the preparations for the midday snack. He would have to retrieve those knives again and sharpen them. They would be just a bit dull after that, so he would have to shine them too, but after hearing the twins' screams, he could easily say that it had been well worth the effort.

"That was an impressive technique," Sebastian commented.

"Thank you, I've had plenty of practice."

Ciel Phantomhive rolled his eyes, but most of his attentions were elsewhere. He found it quite embarrassing to admit even in his mind, but Sebastian's stupid use of jargon words were exactly on point. That girl did have alabaster skin, hair and cerise eyes. There were no better words to describe her. She looked like a ghost! He wanted to make sure that he had been seeing correctly when he first entered the manor, but he chose the wrong time to sneak a peak. She waved at him when she caught him, too! This week would be the downfall of the Phantomhives.

Besides that, there was another questionable occurrence. "_Why are the rabbit and I table mates_?"

In the chair in front of him, where he would've expected the Eldeneuve to be situated, was her pet rabbit. The hare sat comfortably on the hostess's chair and eyed Ciel down. It was a strange day indeed if a rabbit's stare could make Ciel Phantomhive uneasy.

Before Sebastian could console him, the rabbit hopped off his seat and onto the table. Somehow, the little wretch managed to navigate past the plates of foods and drinks on the table and bee-lined for Ciel. Sebastian, who was about to stop it from attacking Ciel, was stopped by Edward.

"The mistress won't allow anyone to touch her rabbit," he warned nervously.

"For your information, he is a _bunny-rabbit_," countered Blanche, who had just entered the room.

"It was a slip of the tongue, m'lady."

When she was the there, she found her bunny-rabbit hopping up and down on a disheveled Phantomhive's head. Calmly, she walked over and grabbed the beast mid-jump.

Without missing a beat, Edward handed Sebastian a clean comb he had gotten from who-knows-where and Sebastian went to brush Ciel's hair and put his hat ornament back into place. All the while that this happened, the only confused one was Ciel.

"Levy, what's gotten into you?" She asked, half-angrily.

The rabbit's ears flopped down. Suddenly, the rabbit went into a puff of smoke and was replaced by a little boy dressed in a smaller version of Edward's outfit. The red bow tie was still on his neck.

Ciel's mind was all but ready to have given up. As of the the moment, he had no comprehension of anything that had taken place. Even with the knowledge of Sebastian's roots and uncanny habits, he still couldn't wrap this around his head.

Levy crossed his arms and sulked. "This boy is creepy," he said, pointing to Ciel.

Blanche's eyes widened. "He is not. That is very rude of you to say."

"He looked at you creepily earlier!" Levy argued.

Ciel hoped that the ground here was quicksand because something needed to swallow him up right then. Even Sebastian was turned around, knuckle in from of his mouth, preventing himself from laughing at Ciel's terrible situation.

Blanche sighed. "Edward, take Levy to the kitchen."

"As you wish."

Now that the boy was gone, the room was quiet. Ciel coughed awkwardly. ". . . I'd like to discuss with you last night's events," he finally said.

Blanche sipped from her cup of tea. She glanced over to the glass teapot and sighed. "How embarrassing," she said.

"Huh?"

"Lord Phantomhive, do you know what "blooming" teas are?" She asked, taking another sip of her tea.

At the sound of his title, he regained back some of his dignity. "Of course, the teas that bloom while they steep. This is the tea that your butler served."

"I've heard that they're a popular gift to lovers," she said with a shake of her head. "It appears my butler and Levy have misunderstood the reason of your visit."

Ciel blinked. "I see."

Blanche placed down her teacup. "It really is embarrassing to drink this with you, Lord Phantomhive," she said quietly. Ciel could detect a hint of rosiness on her complexion. "I apologise for my butler's mistake and for the unsightly behavior of my chef, Levy."

As realisation dawned on him, Ciel chuckled. "I suggest we both forget everything that went down in the last few minutes."

Blanche nodded. Both of them slowly regained their regular demeanor back, and the childish air that once filled the room disappeared.

"Ciel Phantomhive, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

"Last night," he said slowly, "you've seen something I'd like you to keep quiet about."

"Oh, the crossdress-"

"Don't say it!"

Blanche put both hands over her lips. In a muffled voice, she said, "is it a curse word? Did I say bad words? Edward told me that was what that activity was called."

Ciel sighed. "No, you didn't, but just don't say it."

She took her fingers off her lips. "Then shall I call it your special pastime?"

He shook his head, almost in an attempt to ward off the flush edging on his cheeks. "Just . . . Forget about it. About everything you saw. Name your price, just don't ever speak to anyone about it."

"Is that all you wanted to speak to me about?" She asked, finally switching to her dessert, a sweet savarin, cherry-flavored.

"That was what I wanted to get out of the way. There is a much more pressing issue I have to address."

She nodded, her spoon still lodged in her mouth. "Well, on with it. You and I both certainly have matters we need to attend to."

"Last night, at the Viscount's estate, would you care to tell me why you were at the auction?"

"Oh, Lord Phantomhive, have you not known until now?" She asked, her smile dark. "The Eldeneuves are Britain's largest name in human trafficking and prostitution."

The cup Ciel was about to drink from froze in mid-air. "Who is the head of your household?"

"I am, of course."

Ciel felt his guard rise. This innocent-looking girl was the leader of one of the most secretive and cruel companies in the underbelly of London? Just until recently though, Ciel was sure that Ivan Eldeneuve and Belle Eldeneuve were the heads of the family name.

"What happened to your parents?" He asked. His manner towards her morphed into what he used for criminals the Queen would tell him to take down. It was only a matter of time before she was on the list.

"My father?" She said thoughtfully. "I put him into the jailhouse. As for my mother... well, she's in the madhouse."

"So you're the owner of the human-trafficking business now . . . " Ciel said.

"Oh my, is that what I look like?" She said, her eyes just slightly widened.

"What is it you plan on doing, Duchess Eldeneuve?"

"Lord Phantomhive, are you going to report me to Scotland Yard or something?" She said, taking the last bite of her dessert.

Ciel heaved out a breath. "I don't make any moves unless Her Majesty prompts it," he told her with a disinterested shake of his head. "I suggest you keep your game quiet. If you make too much noise . . . "

"Her Majesty's Guard Dog will sniff me out?"


	3. Goodbye, My Kin

_"I'll never stop dreaming that one day we can be a real family, together, all of us laughing and talking, loving and understanding, not looking at the past but only to the future."_

_LaToya Jackson_

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><p><strong><em>Goodbye, My Kin<em>**

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><p>On the same day, late as it could be, Ciel and Sebastian found themselves in the slums in commoner's clothing.<p>

Only a cat could catch witness of them buried in the darkness of the alleyway. The sounds on the street consisted of a distant carriage, but it would likely come nearby. Sebastian himself wasn't too worried about much more than the feline, even forgetting about his young master for a second and maybe a half.

Ciel didn't care too much about how cheap his clothing felt or how filthy his seen environment was. With his back against the cool bricks of the alley, he watched Sebastian in irritation as the man would get infuriatingly distracted when a cat would come into the frame. The only thought on his mind was the topic at hand.

After receiving word that the Viscount Druitt was in fact not Jack the Ripper, the criminal they were targeting, the real investigation had begun. If only Sebastian had the decency to inform him of any unknown, unquestioned variable in the case, they would've been to this solution much sooner. _But of course not_, Ciel sneered, _the stupid butler would do nothing unless requested_.

"Sebastian, would you focus on the task we came here to do?!" Ciel asked, feeling the red tick marks appear on his forehead.

The butler had paused in pawing at the black feline and turned to Ciel. He said, "I am as focused as I have been from the beginning, young master."

"Blasphemy," Ciel grumbled off into the side. Sebastian feigned ignorance and gave his attention back to his newfound toy.

Ciel, who was only slightly annoyed by the fact that he had been second to any mongrel, didn't notice the stomping of horse hooves. It clicked continuously against the silence of the abandoned London night.

After a second, the horse trampling stopped, and Ciel was back in tune with reality. His hearing perked up at the noticeable sound that was slowly getting louder and louder. After many clicks of the heels, there had been silence.

"Someone is approaching," Sebastian commented.

The both of them were surprised to find that it had been Blanche Eldeneuve and her butler, Edward. They calmly walked into the alley. Blanche had parasol in her hands. The skies had been cloudy since the evening, but there had been no foresight of rain.

"Good to see you, Lord Phantomhive," she said, bowing.

He gave her a wary glance before nodding. "Just call me Ciel."

"Then please address me as Blanche, Ciel." His name sounded strange not coming from the mouths of Sebastian or Lizzie. He felt a sudden wave of nostalgia, but it must have been because he hadn't allowed the use of his first name by any new people recently.

Edward bowed deeply, and Sebastian stood to do the same. As they stood up unanimously, Ciel caught a strange light in Sebastian's eyes. It was gone when he blinked.

"Pardon me, but I'm afraid I'm late," Blanche said. She walked on ahead and was about to turn the corner when a piercing scream echoed through the enclosed walls of the slums.

Instinctively, both youths were in a sprint to the source. Ciel had gotten to a worn, closed door, but before Blanche could reach it, Edward had held her back. Ciel was left to witness the dark of the inside of the apartment.

A beautiful woman's dead body lay in front of him. Her eyes were open, but there was no recognition of anything in them. Her stomach had been neatly cut open with her womb tossed near her on the matted, bloodied floors. Intestines and arteries splayed over of the opening. Her blood-splattered face held an expression of horror identical to Ciel's.

Before he could scream or vomit, something was put over his eyes and he was pulled back. "You shouldn't see this," Sebastian told him. Ciel's dismay was still evident with the picture already playing loops in his mind.

Blanche pulled away from Edward, but the door had already been shut. Her eyes watered as she looked at Ciel. "We're too late, aren't we?" She asked in a voice slightly above a struggling whisper. "I wasn't lucky this time, was I?"

Edward looked at her with a creased temple. Before the liquid in her eyes could take their course, she rubbed her eyes with her sleeve harshly. Though the tears probably weren't going to fall in the first place, the need to make sure vulnerability would disappear was there.

There was a sudden faint coldness on her hand. It was from the sky, but before she could decide that it had been the first droplet of rain, rapid footsteps and the slamming open of the door by a strange man distracted her.

He had plain brown hair tied down with a ribbon with the same colour of blood gracing his face. He sported glasses held by chains, and he wore an outfit in the same category to that of Sebastian's and Edward's, but the similarities stopped there. His unnaturally bright green eyes were laden with surprise and horror, but Blanche couldn't help but noticed that those emotions didn't go deep into his soul at all.

"It isn't what it looks like," he said frantically. "I heard the scream and-"

"I didn't expect _another_ divine to being playing butler," Sebastian said, glancing over at Edward. "You can drop the act, Grell. I must say, it was impressive."

The man grinned maniacally, baring his abnormally sharpened teeth. His eyes turned sarcastic. He pulled out his hair tie with the brown locks becoming scarlet in its steps. From his pockets, he pulled out strange eyelashes that he somehow stuck to his own eyes, followed by a change in the pair of glasses. His outfit was no longer a dull colour, since it then matched the shade of his hair.

He completely transformed into a transvestite.

Blanche looked in confusion. "Is he trying to _find himself_ or something, Edward?"

The butler gave an amused half-smile at her honest words as it gave Grell dissatisfaction upon hearing it.

"What?! Don't talk about older woman like that, you brat!" Grell yelled, waving his hands in the air comically.

"What is an idiot like you doing in the human world?" Edward asked.

Immediately, Grell stopped his dramatic fit, and instead had hearts in his eyes. He looked between both Edward and Sebastian. "_For_ _love~_"

"I didn't think Grim Reapers could love." Sebastian sighed, rubbing a gloved hand on his temple.

"With sexy men like you two, how am I expected to not?!" Grell sighed girlishly and flipped his hair back. "I fell in love with a human, actually."

Ciel, who had tried to calm down his nerves the entire time, coughed to get everyone's attention. "You can come out now, Madam Red."

The loud, slow clink of heels signaled her entrance. She stood in front of the door with her hands even bloodier than Grell's. Her eyes were cold, blank, and yet she didn't look menacing at all as she looked at both Ciel and Blanche.

"I didn't think you would suspect your own blood," she said to Ciel. He clicked his tongue.

"I work for the Queen. Blood or not, I'll take away Her Majesty's worries," he answered calmly. Sebastian had a hidden smirk as he listened intently to his master's uncompromising statement.

Madam Red looked at the boy for a second too long, as if she was debating something. As if she had come to her conclusion, she turned her eyes to Blanche, and they became saddened. She walked to the girl, and Edward instinctively stood in front of her.

"Edward, I order you to hear her out," Blanche said quietly and hesitated, '. . .just for now." On command, he moved out of the way reluctantly, but still had a hard glare on the woman.

She bent down and put a hand on Blanche's cheek. "You're walking down a dark path, my dear child."

Blanche gave a sorrowful smile. "I guess it runs in the family."

"Hm," the lady smothered in red said. She stood up and walked to Grell.

"Why?" Ciel asked, taking a step towards her.

Her eyes ran cold. "You wouldn't understand."

"Because I'm a child," Ciel recited, matching her tone. "What makes you think I wouldn't?"

"You just wouldn't, Ciel! You just wouldn't!" She suddenly screeched. Her pupils dilated with her emotions. "We would've been just like normal. We would've been the way we were-like a family, if you had let it be."

Grell giggled. "Go on, what is it you're going to tell him?"

"But since you didn't, I guess I'll have to get rid of you, too."

As she said that, she dashed for Ciel and slammed him against the wall. Sebastian was about to step her way when Grell blocked his path.

"Ah, ah, ah, handsome. Let the humans fight their own wars. We can rendezvous in the meantime," Grell suggested, batting his eyelashes.

"Ugh." Sebastian grimaced.

Blanche ignored the turmoil, and instead she walked past the people, and stopped in front of the entrance. Her eyes bore straight ahead, not daring to down. Edward was by her side in a split second.

"If only we were a few seconds earlier . . . We could have saved her, Edward."

He looked to her, but his eyes weren't sad. "She was family. Have you forgotten why you've made the contract with me?"

Her eyes were crestfallen. "No, she was blood-she must have been! She wasn't supposed to . . ."

"You'd never understand, Ciel! Just be quiet!" Madam Red screamed. Ciel was pushed up against the cold brick wall, looking at her calmly.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was having a bit of difficulty against Grell. He himself was also pushed up against a wall just a few lengths off. The reaper's strange weapon was pushed up in front of him, spinning madly with whirring noises.

"Shall I aid them, mistress?" Edward asked, a hand over his chest in a loyal bow.

She glanced between the two fights and shook her head. "Our being involved will only bring inconveniences."

Edward gave his signature closed-mouthed, dark grin. "Very well. Let me escort you back to our manor." She nodded.

"It was lovely meeting you and Earl Phantomhive again," he said to Sebastian. "And you as well, Grell and Madam Red."

"As to you," Sebastian replied briefly, but politely.

Grell turned to him, momentarily distracted. "I'll see you again, my angel!"

Using that opportunity, Sebastian knocked him away and immediately went to attack. Grell giggled after landing on the ground, but lifted himself back up just after and went straight back to his fight with the demon. At that point, Edward had already turned away and was next to his mistress.

She gave a another sidelong glance at the demon and the reaper, and another at the two she knew so well. She could feel her eyes turn bleak as she held back the onslaught of tears threatening to fall. Her parasol was limp in her hands, neither made for the rain, nor expecting it. Only drizzles fell down, but it felt the same as a downpour to her.

"What dreariness," she said wryly. She sniffed back the water behind her eyes and started to walk out of the alleyway. This business was now a family matter, which did not concern her. "A lady has no place in such matters, does she not?"

Edward seemed content to only sigh quietly as he followed her, not minding the drops of water touching his hair, not minding that the demon was having difficulty fending off the reaper, and not minding that the lady in red was attempting to kill her nephew. Still, for aesthetics, he said, "the Earl Phantomhive will be killed, mistress."

Without looking back, she shook her head. Her pace had not slowed as she looked into the sky, letting the rain splash lightly on her skin. She used them as a replacement for the tears that wouldn't flow.

"They're family, Edward."

As she said that, the scream of Madam Red echoed through the alley. More droplets fell on Blanche, but she knew it hadn't been rain.

* * *

><p>"I think this was an educational experience," Blanche said as she watched the fish flip their tails back and forth in their aquarium. Her finger trailed behind one, lagging in a moment behind.<p>

Edward looked up from buttoning her night robe. "How so?"

His fingers effortlessly fastened the many buttons lining on the cloth while his attention was on his mistress. This had been a nightly occurrence; he would escort her to her room, bath her, prepare her for bed, and "tuck her in," as humans called it.

The room was illuminated by the moon itself. A few lanterns were holding residence on the walls of her large room, but only two had been lit. Though it had been relatively dark, the coral decorations on the walls could not be missed, nor the instruments hung on the wall. There was a grand piano near the human-length window with _Virtuosique_ etched finely in gold on both the chair and the lid. An assortment of bows were on a display shelf above the king-sized silk bedding. Three of each kind of orchestral instruments could be noticed on the wall, all somehow similar but different. This was truly the bedroom of the owner of a respectable music enterprise.

But it was still the room of the head of a human-trafficking business.

Blanche sighed dramatically as she lied down and pulled her blanket over herself. Her eyes naturally rested on the ceiling. The intricate lights did not interest her, nor did it pull her mind away from the thoughts running in circles through her mind ever since she had gotten back to her manor. Edward would obviously take notice of her thoughts before she did.

"Is there anything you'd like to get out of your system, my lady?" He asked with his always-present vague smile.

She turned to him quickly with honest eyes. Even if she tried to hide her emotions, he could still easily see through her, and Blanche didn't want to go through a push-and-pull battle with her supernatural butler tonight. "Very many things, Eadvaard."

His smile grew wider as he heard his original name being used by her. With peaking interest, he stood by next to her bed, accompanied by her nightstand. "Enlighten me."

She took in a deep breath. "Madam Red finally snapped. I haven't told you this yet, but she was there that day, too. Her eyes were just as dark as I last remembered."

"I had guessed, mistress. She reeked of envy."

"While the others were busy playing and chatting, I remembered her excusing herself, and something about her looked off, so I asked to follow her. I was but a child-younger child, mind you." She sensed his amusement. "I still am a child as we speak, but since I was a child, she agreed to let me along."

She closed her eyes, as if looking back at a painful moment in the past. "She spilled her heart out to me about how her sister had everything, yet she couldn't hate her, about how the man she loved would never see her the way she saw him. . . about red. She hated red, then she loved it because of him, then she hated it because of him and her sister. It was very strange to listen to when I was so young."

Edward only nodded to show that he had listened. The light shone on his face, highlighting his ethereal grandeur.

"Then a year and a good part of a year later, we met again."

"Oh, you haven't told me this one yet."

"Hush, I didn't think you needed to know. Anyway, she was delirious this time. It was right after she was hospitalised and I am positive she thought I must have been a ghost visiting," she said, to which he chuckled at. "This time, it was her infertility and her husband's death. It was later that day when the Phantomhive household was engulfed in flames."

"What a regaling tale, mistress," he commented after a second of silence. It gave her the brief thinking time he knew she needed. "It's horribly past your bedtime. Please skip past the pleasantries, if you do not feel like sleeping during the evening."

She flicked her gaze steadily on him, debating on silence. Edward wasn't human, and the gods believed that that was enough leverage for him to have superiority in every way. Her butler was even more perceptive than she gave him credit for.

As she thought, the raindrops splattering on her window drifted into her consciousness. The rain reminded her of many things. It was the tears that she could not shed, pouring down from the skies instead. It was a vague memory of impromptu rain dances and freshly soaked midnight-blue hair that glistened like little jewels under the grey skies. It was the only thing that forced her to face her position in life, her reality.

Oh, how she wished she could escape it.

"Mary Kate was her, Eadvaard. Or maybe she wasn't." Blanche sighed and sat up in her bed. She suddenly felt very cold.

"And how do you suppose you'll find that out?"

A thought crossed her mind, rippling through her soul, and burned through with the promise of regret. "I could ask my father," she whispered, her eyes as unsure as her tone. Then she gave a humourless laugh that made her feel like an old, sad man. "Maybe he'll forget the putting him in jail thing. Maybe we'll go get the wife while we're at it. Maybe. . ."

". . . Maybe you could become a real family," Edward finished with morbid humour.

She gave him an acidic glare. Something flipped in her stomach knowing that he found it amusing because of the fact that it was absolutely impossible. It _had_ been, she realised, from the beginning. He, however, returned her with an innocent smile.

"I am your loyal servant, mistress. Anything you wish, I will do. Anything you want, I will get. Anything that stands in your way, I will eliminate," he told her without the slightest bit of hesitation or deception in his otherworldly mauve eyes. They seemed to intensify under the light of the moon, but she could only blink before she found them closed with his lips softly touching her palm and then her fingers.

She had almost forgotten about them.

On every one of her fingers, seemingly underneath and on the nail, was a strange symbol. Everything on her nail had turned purple to the shade of Edward's eyes, but the lines that crossed in the most complex ways were white, with a simple golden star in the centre. There was little that she knew about it, except for that it signified that she was tied to Edward as prey, never being able to escape him anymore.

She did not faze as his irises moved up to stare at her, with his lip curled into a smile on her palm. She looked right back at him and said, "and in turn, I gave you my soul."

His smile morphed into a smirk, and for a long moment, beautiful white feathers fluttered around her. Her attention could not be swayed from the majestic white wings that came from her servant, which seemed to engulf the entire room. A light shone from them, a bright, pure, calming light, one that reassured.

And yet, it did not come to a surprise when the feathers touched the ground that they became black.

What a terrifying creature, she thought. It was interesting to find that she wasn't scared as he smiled coyly at her. She knew that he knew that she was entranced by his beauty. On normal circumstances, she would shoved him away with a fevered scolding at how touching her was wrong, but she could only allow herself the fleeting moment of _heaven_.

"Goodnight, my lady," he told her, his voice now whispering throughout the air. She didn't blink this time, but he had disappeared suddenly and she couldn't even catch it. The only indication of his presence were the colourless feathers floating down to the ground, where it would become coal-black for a split-second and vanish in a smoke a second later.

One blackened feather fell on her hand. She picked it up and felt the unearthly material against her skin. It felt like wind and water and fire and the petal of a flower.

"My soul is the perfect price for a wish as selfish as mine," she hummed quietly as the last feather left her hand.

* * *

><p>Oh dear, this chapter was darker than I had intended. Just to help you answer some questions you might have had in this chapter, I will say:<p>

_It's pretty obvious what Edward is now, with fantabulous wings and whatnot. But the black feather thing you will have to figure out yourself._

_Mary Kate the prostitute lady? Hm, who was she? She seemed unimportant until Blanche mourned the woman's death. Why do you think so?_

_And does Blanche already know Madam Red and Ciel from way back when? What's this about midnight-blue hair in her memories of the rain?_

Kehehehe, thank you for reading. I obviously won't give any spoilers. I like giving surprises, so hehe. And who thinks they can answer those questions up there? Make a wild guess, you could totally be on point.

**Fun Fact**: Edward's real name is actually _Ædværd_. I just thought most couldn't pronounce it so I used more common spelling.

**Important Notice**: No, Edward and Blanche will not be a ship, no matter how small. That's not gonna work. This isn't rated M, so yeah, no. Whatever you think happened between them did not. Shoo, naughty minds, she is but a child!

And he's a who-knows-how-many-centuries-old creature.

No.


	4. The Matters of the Manor

This is basically insight into the puzzling household of the Eldeneuves and its residents. Oh my, too many bishies in one household. It's enough to drive any female insane, hehe. Here is my insanely long chapter, a gift for New Years. Cheers to another year of anime!

* * *

><p><strong>The Matters of the Manor<strong>

* * *

><p>"Mistress, you have twenty minutes to force yourself awake before I break down the entrance," Edward said, his voice passing through the oak doorway of her sleeping chamber.<p>

Without waiting for a response, and knowing he was not going to be receiving one in the first place, he had walked off to the other side of her mansion where the servants' quarters lay, leaving behind a groggy, half-asleep lady cursing his name. It would have taken him a third of the time limit he had given her to make it there had he been an ordinary butler. In mid-step, he had disappeared from his spot and was already in front of another door, one across the entire building, in a split second. The name _Levy_ was adorned in looped calligraphy on a gray plate, and Edward spared just a glance before he put his gloved hand on the knob and turned, finding that like his mistress's door, it was locked.

If there was anything that Edward could undeniably know about Levy, it was that the boy could not stand being snuck up on. Which had been why Edward had, with a single hand, pushed the door off its hinges, making sure to be a noisy as possible, as not to technically sneak up on Levy. He disregarded the broken bits of the entrance. The twin housekeepers would be the ones to get rid of the mess.

The room was barren and adorned with windows larger than himself, to which the closed curtains all hid from view. Edward, seeing as that he might as well, pulled open all of them abruptly, watching as the boy flinch from the oncoming sunlight. Levy was cuddled onto a tiny futon on the floor –a gift from the Eldeneueve's friends in a region of Asia– and snuggled deeper into it. Other than him and that small piece of bedding, the room had no other forms of furnishings. The cold, tiled floors seemed to not bother the boy at all, but Edward disliked them and never looked forward to trespassing inside the room. _Distasteful_, he had once called them.

Levy stirred only slightly, growling just a bit in his slumber. Once Edward was only a few inches from the futon, he bent downwards far enough so that his face hovered above Levy's and his bright blonde hair could almost graze at him. A frown made its way on the boy's face as he tried to yank the blanket over him. Edward stopped the measly attempt.

Levy slowly stood up, shadowy claws replaced his fingers. Two foreswings at his face made the Edward jump backwards, dodging effortlessly. The mere speed of the swings send strong gusts of wind that ruffled Edward's hair. Levy's eyes were painted completely in red now and he ran forward, slashing at breakneck pace in hopes of ripping some of the butler's skin. Or his organs, which would be a lucky occurrence. They continued the chase with Levy continuously attacking and Edward always ducking and scooting out of the way until Levy hit a wall and cut a head-sized gape.

"_Sir_," he started, with a nearly mocking tone as he pronounced that single word, "it's time to prepare breakfast for the lady of the house and her servants."

A light sigh, and Edward could smell the discontent in it. A small puff of smoke covered the boy's entire body, and a brief wait later, Edward stood in the face of a red-eyed, gray-haired rabbit. He shook his head in short amusement and lifted the domestic animal into his arms. "I suppose you want a ride to the kitchen then?" He asked.

The pet stared up at Edward with blank eyes. Both of its ears twitched, and Edward found himself to be the one sighing, though his was much heavier, but was cloaked in entertainment. Boredom has been against the very nature of his mistress's manor, and he was glad to have never broken that rule, no matter the others that he did. They had arrived in the kitchen and Edward dropped the rabbit out of his hands, not bothering to watch it scamper to its rightful duty. He had his own to worry about.

Edward appreciated his luck this morning. Usually, Levy would have been reluctant to wake and would attack at anyone who told him to in his other form. It would have taken Edward five whole minutes to tame him and shove him out of the door, which would force Edward to quicken his entire schedule up in order to make up for lost time. And when he had to deal with Levy like that, the mess would be left with him since the housekeepers had no experience in reconstructing walls. Today the boy had toned it down considerably, and Edward had the sneaking suspicion of what could have caused such an occurrence.

The room just in front of Levy's with two conjoined doorways had belonged the Ren and Ran. There was nothing to signify its ownership if he had not counted the two axes that hung on the top of the entrance. They were held up by thin strings, the heavy blades threatening to fall loose and dismember a limb or half a body.

Somehow, they always seem to do just that when Edward was the person vulnerable. Abruptly, but not unexpectedly, the strings holding the axes snapped and tumbled down in harmony. Edward did not glance up to see the oncoming impact and instead sidestepped, letting the heavy metal rip through the floorboards. He rapped his knuckles on the wood once, and was met with a synchronised welcoming.

"Come in," the voices beckoned.

Strangely, the approximate number of ten knives flew towards him as he stepped foot in. Though they sped at him with unprecedented accuracy, none grazed at him, instead ended up carving into Levy's door parallel to theirs.

"Only ten this time?" He asked them.

Both sat innocently on their bed, the large blade of a beheading device above them, hung by another thin string. A collection of swords adorned the frame of the bed, as with the walls as well. Throwing stars were scattered about the room, some laying on the ground messily. Anything that could cut would be present in their chamber, and most were assembled by their doorway in respects to Edward, their favourite target.

Ren, with his dark brunette locks and wide, conniving smile, grinned up at Edward. Ran was a bit more on the mellow side with lighter hair and eyes that drooped occasionally, instead decided polish a throwing knife that he would undoubtedly fling at Edward the moment he was done.

Both hazel-eyed brothers stared at him. "The mistress is sad today," Ran pointed out.

Ren was next to speak. "There's no fun in killing you when she can't laugh at it."

Edward shook his head at them. "Her mood does not excuse you from your duty," he said, grabbing the throwing knife that Ran threw at him in between two fingers."

"But if she's sad, then we are too, and we can't work sad, idiot." Ren hopped off his mattress, maneuvered himself over the spikes the stood at the edge, and rummaged under the bed. "So just give us a day off."

He pulled out two longswords, sharper than a good amount of the others in their rooms, and tossed one to his twin. Edward sighed, finding that he would be doing a lot more of that today. "I suppose that if you were to win against me in a duel, I would consider it."

"How can you consider it if you're dead?" came Ran's question.

Edward bent down to pick up a stray dagger on the floor and pulled it up just in time to parry Ren's sword. As soon as he pushed the boy back, another attack was launched on him by Ran. The heavy clash of metal was loud enough for half of the mansion to hear. He held both brothers off with a dagger no longer than his hand, and stopped each of their onslaughts of swings.

A full two minutes of reckless swordfighting, and Edward had succeeded in tiring them out. Both were panting heavily, standing side by side, their swords pointed to his face. He made a show of spinning his small dagger by the finger, earning an annoying huff from Ren.

"Since that's settled, I'll expect to clean up your mess and then continue with the rest of the household."

Someone groaned out, and Edward did not bother to assume which of the twins it had came from. "We're tired now," Ran said, wiping off his sweat. His brother did the same, but in a manner so dramatic as to prove his point that Edward could only raise an eyebrow.

"If the blades aren't organised by the time breakfast starts, then you won't be getting breakfast."

"But that only gives us—" The door was slammed abruptly, cutting off Ren's statement.

Edward shook his head and pulled out his pocket watch. He had taken a whole ten minutes so far and had to hurry to his next destination, the music room. A crystal chandelier hung above the wide room, the floors were of waxed, sturdy, and smooth wood, decorated by simple patterns. Before Blanche's takeover, this would have been the ballroom. Instead, classical instruments were neatly held in cabinets spread around the room, snug against the beautiful wallpaper. The violins and violas were most often held up by a stand, and each one was of a different make and model, and most did not have the Virtuosique engraving. Plenty of other smaller instruments were the same. The larger ones were hugged by racks, and a grand piano stood in the centre of the room. The Virtuosique engraving was on the side, spelled out in handwritten gold.

A wild mop of ebony hair rested on top of the keys, face down, and shielded by two long arms clothed in only a white dress shirt. The man was surrounded by crumpled-up balls of sheet music. On the thin edge of of the the piano were a two bottles of expensive wine, along with three elaborately designed glass cups, two empty and clean. Upon hearing the clicking of Edward's dress shoes, the man slowly lifted his upper half up and stretched lazily in a cat-like fashion.

He rubbed his eyes roughly and turned to Edward with a tilt of his head, revealing his pitch-black eyes. "Morning, Edward. Care for drink?"

"You're well in the realm of being an alcoholic now," the platinum blonde chided.

A light, dizzying chuckle echoed through the ballroom. "I'm just indulging. What do you say?" A smooth hand poured grape-coloured wine into the glass and held it towards Edward, wiggling it at him.

Edward took the glass as the man poured another one for himself, the liquid now blood-red. He looked expectantly at Edward and said, "you first, since I offered."

A faint bend of his lips signaled a devilish smirk that almost seemed out of character until it was washed away with the wine. A second passed and the man grunted in disappointment.

"Mr. Vince, what has you down?" Edward asked, his smirk now replaced with an innocent smile.

Vince crossed his arms. "The miss is down, and you're still alive."

"Poisoning your coworker is highly inappropriate." Edward fluidly poured out more purple wine into his glass and downed it easily, not minding the sickeningly sweet flavour masking the bitter taste of an illegal medicine. "And so is drinking alcoholic beverages before breakfast."

He sucked on his teeth and poured the safe maroon wine into his own glass, drinking it just as Edward did his. "I'm not hungry," he replied bitterly.

"I didn't ask if you were. Breakfast will be ready in seven minutes."

His footsteps left the ballroom quickly. Alcohol had an interesting taste, but today's was unnecessarily sugary. There was an unattractive smell to it, to which he decided to later be rid of by downing milk. Maybe strong-smelling candy would be more helpful, he thought. It was only a short stroll later did he exit the manor.

He was greeted by the chilled morning after a night of heavy rain. The songs of birds overlapped with each other and he ignored them. Instead of wasting time, he quickly honed in one where his target was and after passing through the greenhouse-like passageway barricading the manor, he caught a glimpse of a man with copper-coloured hair covering half his face asleep underneath the shade of a small tree.

"How are you today, demon?"

Edward chuckled. "I can assure you that I am no demon, Mr. Leo," he said easily.

Ethereal green eyes flicked to his mauve ones and a short stare-down ensued. It was broken by a voice like the wind. "Of course not, but you're something. And since the little lady is going to be worse for wear today, I don't think I'd prefer the likes of you dragging around her."

A delicately arched eyebrow answered his accusation. "Yes, I'm sure. Anyway, breakfast will be ready in a little over five minutes."

Leo reached under his vest and pulled out a small slip of paper with foreign characters written in blotchy ink. Instantaneously, he leapt up at him but it seemed like he was not quite fast enough, for Edward appeared behind him, snatching the paper out of his two fingers.

"Is this..." Edward squinted his eyes, though his eyesight was perfectly fine. A few cogs rolled in his mind and he finally pinpointed the language. "A Japanese talisman? _Cleanse_... I believe I am clean enough, but thank you for the concern."

He scoffed. "Please go back to where you came from, or die here."

"Yes, yes. Breakfast will be ready in four minutes."

He made it to her chamber with three minutes and twenty seconds to spare, which he noticed was quite a record. Only once did he turn the knob, but it would not budge. Sighing, he pushed through, breaking the two top hinges of the door. He then knocked twice.

The mistress, fully dressed and with her hair thoroughly brushed, walked past him. "Better early than late then. Stop dawdling there, Edward, the other servants will be expecting us at breakfast."

"Yes, mistress."

The once annoying sun shone through the windows of the manor in a pleasing way, and with the breakfast table fully illuminated, everyone's mood seemed to lift just a bit. The young mistress took her place at the high end of the table with her chair pulled out by her butler.

"Good morning," she greeted quietly.

Around the table were the servants of the household, all answering her curt pleasantry with their own. A chorus of voices sang at the table, all merry. Edward walked into the kitchen to aid Levy.

"How'd you sleep, miss?" Vince asked, and the table lowered in volume.

Blanche blinked. "A trivial matter such as that would not make adequate conversation." She glanced over at the entrance to the kitchen, wondering what Edward and Levy could be discussing without her there.

Vince followed her gaze and stuck out his tongue. "Same as always," he mumbled.

"Mistress," the twins sang together, "you look lovely in that dress!"

She appraised her clothing in wonder and answered with, "Edward chose this last night. Give your compliments to him."

"No good, brother," Ren whispered.

"Bleh, we should have said her hair..."

Another tried his luck while she turned her attention back to the kitchen. What was taking them so long?

"Little lady," Leo called, making Blanche pull her eyes back to the table, "what do you think you'll be doing today?"

She huffed out a breath and he sweatdropped, along with the other guys looking at him with sympathy. "Edward has my schedule, and he will tell me it during breakfast."

Not a moment later did Edward arrive with a tray of food. Levy and he placed the servants food down after they did the mistress's. Everyone at the table seemed to be sulking, and Edward did not have to have a great imagination to figure the reason.

"How did you sleep, mistress?" He asked as soon as he was back to her side. Vince narrowed his eyes.

She poured herself a glass of water. The breakfast was an array of decorated food that she could not name for the life of her, and made of ingredients she could not even discern. As long as it's edible, she reasoned.

"Deeply. I must have been tired after yesterday." She poked at her eggs and imagined a baby chick. Suddenly her appetite diminished.

"Well, you look quite lovely in that dress, don't you?" Two sets of hazel eyes stared at him in disbelief.

She gave him a look. "Are you flattering yourself, or do you believe I am at an age where my self-esteem will need support?"

He smiled. "I've always wondered how you manage such venom so early in the morning, my lady."

She had the urge to roll her eyes, and forced herself to eat the greens. They were much lighter on her conscience than the eggs apparently. Levy seemed to be eyeing her food choices from the other side of the table, and she took a weak bite of the scrambled eggs as soon as she noticed.

"Today, I have cleared everything from your schedule. I assumed you'd want a day off to attend more pressing matters."

That was right, she had witnessed quite a few deaths the night before. Madam Red's funeral would be ready before the end of the week, but the victims were buried unceremoniously. She supposed that no one truly cared for the lives of a few faceless prostitutes. She could laugh.

_Father_.

That egomaniac never cared.

_Mother_.

That mad woman turned a blind eye.

The Eldeneuve's human trafficking business was now on her hands, but she had no idea what to do. She was a child, not even in her thirteenth year yet. If only things were as simple as crushing the business as a whole, but then what would happen to those who depended on it? And another head in her family would have the rights to take it over. Her ownership was shaky, but it was there, and she would have a grip on it until it slipped out of her fingers completely.

Human trafficking was the dirtiest business that could exist. And now, as one of the heads, she was one of the dirtiest, too. The victims who could not help their lack of luck would be shunned and hated and looked upon with disgust. Those who had nothing but their bodies were willing to give it up to remain alive. The lines being right and wrong seemed to be blurred.

By now, she had been staring blankly at her plate. The people around her quieted completely, but she could not see their eyes on her in distress. Edward cast his gaze on his mistress, his face blanker than anyone in the room. He did not quite understand why humans were so easily emotional.

"Mistress," he called. There was no answer. "Mistress," he tried again, but with the same result.

"Miss...?"

"Mistress, hey mistress!"

"...mistress, are you there?"

"Are you alright, little lady?"

A chorus of concerned voices. No one was touching their food now. It was only a matter of time before it became cold.

Levy tapped his finger on the table in annoyance, having been already finished with his portions. What good was slaving over a good breakfast for these stupid humans if none of them would even get a taste of it? _He_ had no need for this foul-tasting human food, and all he asked of them was them to make use of it.

He had not realised how comical he looked in his appearance of a child mixing in with his very supernatural irritation.

Edward regarded him with amusement and he glowered in the man's direction. _Tap_, _tap_,_ tap_...

Finally, he had been fed up. No one had been paying attention to him anyway, and he found no harm in transforming to his domestic rabbit form. In a quiet poof, he found himself on all fours and effectively made his way across the table.

Even then, no one paid his small form any mind until he plopped himself on Blanche's lap. She snapped out of her reverie and found all of her servants looking at her with smiling faces. Levy growled and the group directed their attention to him at last.

"What is it, Levy?" She threw her dark thoughts out of the window and let him nestle in the crook of her arm.

There was silence. His growl was only the baring of his teeth coupled with a strange squeak he forced out, which seemed to be all his body could produce at the moment. Speaking was not necessary though, since the mistress seemed to understand completely, much to the servants' disbelief.

"The food will become cold," she told them. She stroked his soft grey fur and played with his ears, which he occasionally twitched at. "Good boy," she murmured.

"It's not fair how the weirdos get all the attention," Ren groused, puffing out his cheek.

Vince heaved out a childish sigh, despite being of nineteen years. "What do you expect? One transforms into a bunny-rabbit and a tiny child. The other is almost more attractive than me." He drank his glass of wine in one sip.

Edward gave him an unamused look. He was not out of earshot. "Please do not flatter yourself so much, Mr. Vince," he said, giving a seemingly innocent smile that did not completely hide the mocking under-taste. "Vanity with nothing to back it up is unhealthy."

"Hah?" The musician have him a challenging look. "At least mine is natural! You probably had to go through a bunch of sacrifice rituals to get that face of yours."

"That does seem to be the case," Leo chimed in.

"It seems that I'm entertaining obvious envy," Edward said to himself, but cast a meaningful glance towards Vince and Leo. "Being aesthetically pleasing is hardly my only redeeming trait."

A scoff came from the mistress. "Why must you always argue about beauty?" She asked. "You act more girlishly than females themselves. I might put you all in dresses and wigs and _then_ we will weigh your attractiveness against each other."

Each of them regarded the idea with fear. The mistress was notorious for carrying out her pranks. The memory of all of them being forced a ten course meal after arguing about the last strawberry cake slice came to mind, and they shivered. Everyone had gained at least a good ten pounds that day and a cruel stomachache. She had made Levy watch each of them finish every one of their portions.

"That will not be necessary, mistress," Edward tried to reason, feeling slight pity for the other men.

She seemed to ponder it for a second. She gave a sigh of resignation and Vince and Leo nearly collapsed in relief. "You are right," she answered.

But she was not done. "But it will certainly prove interesting."

The twins looked at each other and burst out laughing at the others' expenses. But one look at the mistress told them that they were not to be so entertained.

"Once I return to the manor today, I expect you all to be donned in the finest of silks. The most beautiful woman will be given a two days off of duty. The only exemption is Levy," she announced, patting the bunny-rabbit's head. He snuggled closer to her, giving the boys a sidelong, boasting glance that the mistress had missed.

* * *

><p>She wondered if she should kneel down, letting the grass and dirt dirty her clothing. It was cold outside, but being in a cemetery must have accounted for most of the chills running down her back. The people here were six feet under, where she expected to be in a matter of time.<p>

"Mistress, what proof do you have that this Mary Jane Kelly woman really was–"

"None." She gripped the hem of her dress. "You might call me delusional, but I'm sure this was her. Something called instinct, I suppose."

Edward lifted an eyebrow. Instinct, he mused. Instinct was something humans were notorious for mindlessly trusting, but as far as he knew, there was no reasoning behind it. Instinct was built on life experience, but he doubted his mistress had much of that to lean back on. Still, he did not voice his unimpressed thoughts.

"If you were to give me the command, I would gladly find out for you," he offered.

The grave had engraved the words Mary Jane Kelly. The date was 1863 to 1888. There were no flowers, except the purple hyacinths she requested Edward to get a hold of. They mourned for the death of the woman in her place.

"I cannot depend on you for everything," she admitted, giving him a saddened smile. "Besides, instinct tells me that I would not like the answer anyway."

He was not concerned, since she seemed to want to fight this small battle by herself. He could not pry into a frail girl's tragedies, for he could easily break her by doing so.

"Then let us believe that the prostitute," she flinched at the word, "Mary Jane Kelly is your true mother."

"Until anything proves otherwise, she is. I truly believe she is. Something was so familiar about her," Blanche voiced.

"We couldn't save her. Is begging for her forgiveness going to hurt your pride, mistress?"

She gripped the fabric of her dress harshly. "Be quiet."

"Is that why you had gotten her these flowers?" He asked, his tone satiric.

Her eyes were fixed on the grave. Dark emotions swirled in her, but she had no idea what to do with them. She did not want to do anything though because even with those emotions, what she felt the most was tired.

She was so very tired.

"Flowers do not speak, mistress. They cannot speak."

"What good is speaking to a corpse, Edward? Tell me, you seem to be knowledgeable in the supernatural. _What good is speaking to a corpse?_"

He sighed. "She can hear you."

Blanche froze.

"Her death with sudden, and she's still here, mistress. She'll be going soon, but do you have nothing to say?"

A moment of silence pierced the air, and suddenly the cemetery was even more of a gloomy place. She did not want to speak to her possible birth mother, but she did.

She sound of crunching grass stopped her decision. "Good evening, Duchess, Edward," Sebastian greeted, smiling vaguely.

"It is an honour to meet you again, Lord Phantomhive and Sebastian," Edward returned.

Blanche forced away her downtrodden eyes and smiled to them. Ciel had been wearing all black. Mourning clothes, she realised.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

She shared a brief look with Edward. "Paying our respects to the deceased," she said.

He did not look convinced, but did not pursue the matter. When he decided to pay the grave a visit, he expected no one to be there. No one had claimed the woman's grave, and he offered payment for it. Blanche must have been here because of the same reason as he.

"Thank you," she said quietly. He looked to her in confusion. "For giving a lowly prostitute her own grave."

Her eyes found their way to his, and held such morose that he almost felt the need to look away. When she closed them in a joyless smile, he saw that both their servants were nowhere to be found. They were suddenly alone by the grave.

"There is no reason to thank me. I'd done so out of pure obligation," he told her. She shook her head.

"You had none to her, Ciel. Your only obligation was to stop Jack the Ripper, and you had done that. You should not have minded if she had rot and the rats and flies fed upon her carcass. You are kindhearted."

He stared at the grave. The hyacinths were undoubtedly placed by her. They seemed despondent by themselves. He laid down his flowers beside them. The yellow of them seemed to brighten up the purple before they both became sorrowful.

"Don't call me that."

"If you were not kindhearted, then should that mean you were _weak_?"

He snapped his head in her direction, narrowing his eyes. She met him with an evened gaze. She sat down, letting the prickly grass rub against her dress. There was no worry of smearing onto the black fabric.

"You should watch what you say," he threatened.

She laughed without mirth. "Why could you not have killed her? She hesitated. I saw her." She reached for the gravestone, marveling at how cold to the touch it was. "Could you not kill Madam Red, your kin?"

"She did hesitate," he repeated, "which was why I didn't kill her."

Blanche turned to him. Why? It was the perfect opportunity, she thought. She was going to kill him otherwise. Then she remembered the Madam Red she knew, the lady who was named Angelina Dalles. The one who had a love-hate relationship with the colour red, who loved both her sister and her sister's husband, the one who probably played with Ciel and Elizabeth all the time. She knew so little of the woman, but she knew that Angelina Dalles would have hated for her precious nephew to be splattered in red.

Ciel seemed to believe the same. "She couldn't kill me, her own flesh and blood. I knew she couldn't."

"She was weak," he continued, "and it cost her her life."

"Or maybe she was _kindhearted_," Blanche said.

He stared at her and shook his head in resignation.

"Maybe."

* * *

><p>"What did you and Phantomhive chat about?"<p>

"You and Sebastian were listening from your hiding places, were you not?"

He only gave her a vague smile, which was enough of an admission of crime. He only poured her more tea.

"What did you and Sebastian talk about then?" She leaned back in her chair, crossing a leg over the other and blew on the hot drink. Something soft snuggled onto her lap and once she figured it was her bunny, she softly pat him.

"Dinner preparations."

"How predictable." She turned her attention to the book on her armrest and started lazily reading it. "Help the other guys become beautiful. Then do it to yourself to."

He sighed.

"Do you hear me, Edward? That's an order," she mumbled offhandedly.

"Yes, my lady."

He left the main room and went to find the others. They must have been in the dressing room, which he had already stocked with clothing of all sizes and shapes. It was time for his mistress's entertainment for the day, he guessed, and only the rabbit was spared from the humility.

As he sauntered in, the sight of all the male servants of the household made him smirk. They were walking around the large room aimlessly, perusing the racks of clothing and shelves of accessories. This time, unlike every other time, they were in the woman's section.

"_Gentlemen_," he said, making the irony clearer than crystal, "I will be dressing you, on orders of the mistress."

They all seemed to sulk. "Why must we all do this again?" Leo asked.

"Because the mistress wants to be cheered up," he answered intelligently, knowing that none would argue if it was for her well-being. She had them wrapped around her finger, and he so often made use of it.

Twenty minutes later, he was ready to survey his work. The cross-dressing men stood in a line in front of him, all utterly embarrassed. He crossed his arms proudly, the dress material crumpling under his touch.

The blonde wig on his head was not comfortable, nor was it pleasing to the touch, but the mistress wanted him to go all out, and he would have to obey her. His dress was purple and frilly with many, many ribbons, and his thin frame made it easy for him to be mistaken for a woman in it. Though the mistress seldom used makeup, he had bought quite a bit and found it useful in this situation.

The pantyhose was not agreeable though.

He was surprisingly not the worst for wear since the twins, Vince, and Leo were in just the same situation. He had to admit he would have himself a good laugh had they not made such believable ladies. Actually, he would have laughed no matter what.

"You're even laughing like a woman," Vince commented.

Edward cleared his throat, but a small smirk was still plastered on his face. "I am merely getting in character. A lady's laugh is her prettiest feature."

Ren and Ran were in matching outfits. Ren had on a fiery red dress, louder than his personality. Ran had on a pink dress, demure and calm as he. Their wigs were short, and Edward did not have their specific hair colours, so he chose the same for both of them, which turned out to be a mistake. Had their dresses been the same colour, there would be no way of discerning the boys.

Vince had on a black dress, just as dark as his brooding self was. He had on a straight black wig, the kind of hairstyles woman of Asia so famously adorned. His embarrassment was perhaps the second strongest of any of the men, but it toned down after getting used to his own feminine undergarments.

Leo's green gown matched his eyes explicitly. There were no wigs of his copper-coloured hair, and so Edward set him in a ginger wig, the closest he could find. He was having trouble standing in his higher-than-necessary heels.

He looked like the wife of a someone of high status while Vince looked like a lady just on the age of marriage. The twins were mischievous daughters of some noble. Edward imagined himself to be a respectable woman, more on the sultry side than sweet. His look slightly resembled Madam Red.

"Line up, gentlemen. The lady awaits," he announced, not bothering to put on a girlish voice.

As soon as they reached the main room, Levy had poofed back to his human form just to laugh and point, likely paying them back for this morning. The mistress took a second to regard them all before doubling over. Her rare unrestricted laughter filled the house.

It was mortifying to the men to stand there and soak in the amusement at their expense. Edward, though, did not mind. He had himself a good laugh beside his mistress, standing with a fan over his face for good fun. He had no shame whatsoever, to the point that the other servants feared him.

"_Mein gott_, you men are wearing the pantyhose, too?" Blanche could barely saw in between giggles. "You lot could be the most beautiful woman in all of London!" Her hand held on her stomach. She could barely contain herself before her laughs became silent wheezes.

"Mistress, I haven't seen you so entertained in awhile," _or ever_, Edward added silently. This time he spoke using the voice of a woman, trying to imitate Madam Red's way of speaking.

She seemed to lose herself. "Edward–please! Stop with–haha–the voice! I, I can't handle it!" She exclaimed, unable to speak without bursting into fits.

"The mistress is so cruel..." Ran said, sighing at his coral-coloured dress. His brother nodded.

Ren sighed along. "We're males, for god's sake!"

Vince swallowed his shame, and it tasted bitter. He went to pat the mistress and Levy, who were on the floor with alarming laughter. Levy was curled into a ball, his head buried in his hands. The mistress was kneeling on the cold tiles, one hand unsuccessfully covering her mouth, and the other easing her stomach. Their laughs seemed painful.

Leo was completely red compared to the others. "Can... can you tell us who won, little lady? The corset is cracking my ribs..."

Another burst of laughter came at his statement. Blanche was practically crying with it. After a few moments and forcing herself to think of dying puppies, she finally calmed down. She stood up, giggling only slightly, and patted off the imaginary dust that gathered on her dress skirt.

Her eyes roamed over every one of the boys. "Levy, who do you think is most pleasing?" She asked, almost seriously. Her wide smile betrayed her.

"The mistress," he said.

"I believe everyone looks positively lovely, so maybe you all win." She nodded appreciatively.

The twins cheered and high-fived each other, nearly tipping over from their heels. Vince nodded and Leo heaved a breath of relief. Edward shrugged and eased off his wig. He looked ridiculous, which sent Levy and Blanche into small giggle fits again.

"Edward, put the wig back on," Blanche said. "You are all going to be pretty for the entire day."

A chorus of groans followed her statement, and she laughed.


End file.
